My sizable file cabinet was so full that I couldn’t squeeze one more piece of paper into it. It was clear that the time had come to clean it out. I found a treasure among all those folders that I would like to share with you. Based on an unrelated note on the back of the outline for the following, this was likely written around early 1997. My friend Marni Winder Hansel and I were young mothers with our first born babies still under a year. We spent an afternoon writing out an idea I had about a personified plant fiber. Thank you, Marni for your encouragement and for contributing your writing skills that day. I sometimes need help bring my ideas to form.
The following poem is dedicated to all the fine art papermakers out there.
Fiber Fulfilled
I was born in a meadow surrounded by trees;
From birth I sought my Creator to please.
I grew up strong and ready to serve,
Fearless and bold and full of nerve.
To be used by God was my great obsession.
I wanted to make a lasting impression.
He said He would use me, “Be patient, obey;
I will be with you each step of the way.”
I was just a small fiber from a plant, big and green,
Confident God had a plan yet unseen.
Then sharply cut down at the time of the reaping,
Stripped of my bark I stood naked, weeping.
A cold-water soaking rendered me weak.
Lying there limp with just strength to speak,
I cried, “Oh Lord, see your servant’s abused!
Or have you forgotten I asked to be used?”
“I share in your hurts, I know well your pains,
But though you are broken My purpose remains.”
He said to be patient; he sees more than I.
Just trust and obey, and let your will die.
Then I was beaten, picked over, and torn,
Weaker than on the day I was born.
I was broken and bruised, tattered and frayed,
But still I held fast to the promise God made.
I was rinsed in cold water, burned with the bleach;
Though poured out together, no friends were in reach.
Caught up in waves, rolling around,
I hit the vat wall and nearly drowned.
Then I heard voices-- the vat man was near!
He spoke of the purpose and all was made clear.
They would make paper from the purest of fiber
With a sacred objective chosen from Higher.
The stir of their hands was not a bother.
The pulp must be even within the water.
The mold and deckle plunged below surface
Then arose with a shake interwoven with purpose.
“I made it!” I shouted. I was there on the screen.
I was is in that big paper so white and clean.
Our whole sheet was couched like a wave onto felt.
Then darkness came over, in lamb’s wool I knelt.
“But Lord, I can’t breathe, it covers my face.
The pressure is growing; oh, where is your grace?
Won’t you save me, can you use me still?
I thought I was getting close to Your will.”
“And now you are right where I want you to be.
Do you know you are becoming more like Me?”
The whole post was moved into the press.
The pressure grew; I was an unconscious mess!
When I awoke I was relaxed in the sun --
Warmed by the presence of the Holy One.
He said I should rest until dry and refreshed;
I held hands with my friends, forever enmeshed.
We were trimmed down to size and looking quite sharp
When rough, jagged metal attacked in the dark.
We scrubbed to get clean but had no success.
Would we live forever with this botchy, black mess?
We were stacked quite neatly with other etched pages
Then sewn on one side and sold for wages.
A family man bought us; the Lord was pleased.
I smiled, for I knew He was using me.
That night before bed, with the family gathered ‘round,
He opened the book so freshly bound.
He read from my page the words on my face;
He read about sin and salvation by grace.
My heart overflowed and burst with joy,
For I was in my Savior’s employ!
He used me for the noblest cause --
To bring praise to His name in spite of my flaws.
Regardless of talent, intelligence, skill,
Every phase of your life can conform to His will.
Don’t be discouraged when you can’t see Him move;
Just trust and obey, see His faithfulness proved!